Frozen Midnight Rose: Prologue
by Rude Pixie
Summary: Hmmm, well there's a new character. That's about all I want to say, but I suppose you'll need more. Well it's MWPP, and this part is . . . sort of . . . shall we say . . . angsty? Maybe.


Frozen Midnight Rose: Prologue   
  


by: Scarlette Faerie   
  


A/N This is a start of a new series. It'll probably be short, about 5-10 chapters. I got the idea a looong time ago, and I just felt like writing it, cause I've got nothing better to do except work on Past Lives, Prophesies, & a Prediction to Screw it All, which'll take awhile. And which, may I add, no one bothered to review when I posted the second part. Which is why I'm taking a break from it. Please. Please, if you like this review it.   
  


~-~-~   
  


Curse word after curse word ran through my mind. Many of them were insults directed at myself, Dumbledore, the ministry aurors surrounding me, and of course, Voldemort.   
  


How could I have been caught so easily? Only hours ago I'd been second in command to the most powerful and evil wizard ever known, Lord Voldemort. I'd been leading the final attack that would have vaulted us into victory, the demise of Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore. Now here I was suspended four feet above the ground, bound in some curse, staring into the faces of the dozens of aurors, whose wands were pointed at my head, ready to kill at the command.   
  


Though I was only fifteen, I would have perhaps been known as the most evil witch in this generation, had my name been known as it should.   
  


Life had not been kind to me. Life had abandoned me in search of someone more worthy, and left me to fend for myself. Something I hadn't done to the best of my abilities.   
  


They say blood is thicker than water. But what is thicker than blood? To me, it was hate. Hate coursed through my veins, thick and black as tar, obscuring my vision of the world. I conceived that there were no such things as love, light, beauty, happiness, peace. Everything was as cold and black as Voldemort, who I hated more than anything.   
  


He claimed he'd found me in the gutters at the age of six and having nothing else to believe, it became part of my story. My parents were either dead or had left me there unconsious until I'd been 'saved' by Tom Marvolo Riddle, which he still was then.   
  


I'd been Voldemort's pleasure from then on. He took pleasure from my screams of pain. The way my body writhed with it when he tortured me, using both physical and mental tactics to reduce me to nothing but a tiny muggle child, entirely defenseless and trusting. On of the muggles he hated so much.   
  


Of course, I was only a muggle child until the day my mind snapped and released a force that would have thrown him against the wall had he not been so powerful. My flame of hate had been growing steadily until it consumed me and took controlled my magic.   
  


Oh did I get beaten for that. Had I known what death was I would have chosen that over everything Voldemort offered. For after he'd discovered my powers, my training had begun.   
  


My hate was deterred from snapping against Voldemort again, because I was preoccupied in learning as much of the dark arts as quickly as I could. I must have been the best student ever, because I knew from experience, that the torture would be unbearable if I failed. By the age of ten, I'd mastered the Unforgivable Curses and took as much pleasure in killing and torturing the rodents around Voldemort's hovel, as he'd taken in torturing me   
  


I'd had no name until he recognized the strength of my magic., Then I'd become known only as Aerys. I don't know where he came up with it, but it was the only thing connected to him that I didn't hate.   
  


As I'd grown up, my tortures grew less and my training more, as I'd realized that if I didn't show any emotion, he'd take much less interest in me. I was a very good actress. I can't say he didn't completely stop his torutes. It was one of his games to demonstrate a curse on me.   
  


Then the plotting started. The Death Eater's were formed and slowly, the power grew. I'd never felt so dominant in my life, knowing that if these plans worked, I could rule the world.   
  


And now here I was suspended above ministry aurors, hating them, hating life, hating myself, hating the forces that had put me in this situation after getting caught, trying to disarm the apparition shield around Hogwarts. I wasn't scared at that they could do to me. I snorted at the very thought of Azkaban. Most of the dementors there worked for Voldemort anyway. All I'd have to do was tell them the password, and I'd be out. Death would be a welcome punishment. Telling my information would only get Voldemort caught, and a lot of ministry workers killed. And these were probably about my only options.   
  


"Who are you child?" Dumledore questioned kindly, his worn face saddened and just a shade angry. A flush of rose up inside me. Child? I was no one's child, save the devils.   
  


"Aerys," I bit out, my voice full of contempt, regretting even making a sound.   
  


"What? No last name?" He asked mildly as if he was Santa Claus talking to an angelic three year old.   
  


I glared the darkest glare I could muster at him, hoping he'd see the pits of hell revealed in my eyes. If he was going to be stupid about it, he'd have to use magic to get anymore answers out of me.   
  


A shadow passed over his face, blotting out his faint smile and the twinkle in his eyes, replacing then with a look of quiet fury. He muttered something to the wizard beside him, who nodded and took off running. Then, I was lowered gently to the ground, the wands of the aurors still pointed at my head.   
  


When the young wizard returned, he shoved a small crystal vial into Dumbledore's hand, then cast a nervous glance towards me.   
  


"I am sorry to have to do this to you child," Dumbledore said, slowly raising his wand. _'Imperio'_   
  


A cloudy feeling swept over, obliterating all thought from my mind. But as I concentrated harder on Dumbledore's face in front of me, the blank feeling faded away.   
  


I could have giggled. Could have, but didn't. They were quite stupid, weren't they? Thinking that the adopted servant of Voldemort didn't know how to recover from the Imperious Curse. Of course they didn't know who I was, and that aspect made me feel just the tiniest bit sorry for them. It did put them at the disadvantage after all. It was this that made me continue the façade of being under the curse   
  


Dumbledore offered his hand to me with the tiny crystal vial in it. "Drink this," he commanded softly, and immediately I knew it was Veritaserum. Now the only question was what to do. Funny I know. Normally, I would have grabbed it out of his hand and smashed it against the ground, just to defy him. But now . . . I had lost the will to fight. What was there to fight for? Good or evil, it was just a battle against the other, and I didn't want it anymore.   
  


Shaking, I reached out my hand to grab the vial, realizing just a little too late that people under the Imperious Curse, probaly weren't that slow. Hastily, I grabbed the bottle and took the tiniest sip. Even in the state I was in, I didn't want to be permanently insane, the effect of overdosing on Veritaserum.   
  


I dropped the bottle after I'd taken the sip, as the world began to spin dizzyingly. Everything went a hazy white, and I knew no more.   
  


~-~-~   
  


A/N Well there's the first part. And let this be a warning to you if you liked it. THERE WILL NOT BE A SECOND PART IF YOU DO NOT REVIEW! That's all. Have a nice day. 


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